


Mabon (or: Equality and Balance)

by nerdyydragon



Series: Kingsman Tumblr Ficlets [12]
Category: Kingsman (2014), Kingsman (2015), Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Harvest Festival, M/M, Roxy is only mentioned in passing, they're totally witches here that happened, witches ! au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 08:47:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8137789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdyydragon/pseuds/nerdyydragon
Summary: There are many names and purposes for the Equinox, but for those who follow the old gods it is a time of feasting and celebration, and honoring the impending dark. Feasts are held and loved ones brought close, and everyone begins to settle into the countdown to the new year.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing - not the characters, and CERTAINLY not the occult festival mentioned here.

_ Time passes and the ways of the druids and old gods are lost to the mists of time, nothing more than faerytales that shroud the truth. Magic is known as nothing more than party tricks and flights of fancy. But there are those who know better, and the lifeblood of time and history that is writ in stone is not so easily forgotten. It is in the air we breath and every living thing around us. And though the world may forget, there are few - precious few - who remember, who know. They continue on the tradition of honour, of respect to the earth and her children, cultivate it, help it grow. Pass on her secrets to their children and grandchildren. No, the earth doesn’t forget, and neither do they. Celebrations change with the times and are less outward, conducted quietly in homes and out of the way places, but are not lost; offerings are still given and harvests reaped and sewn. These people go by many names - wiccans; pagans; witches; children of the moon. They offer their sacrifices in blood and stone and iron even as the world changes around them. _

_ They are blessed, and they are powerful. _

\-----

This time of year had always been the hardest for Eggsy - the influx of magic that always occurred leading up to Samhain (and the subsequent new year) on his already sensitive psyche had always given him a massive headache to the near equivalency of a hangover, and this time around had been no different. In retrospect, perhaps going out to the Feast of Avalon that his mate Roxy had invited him to instead of celebrating quietly with his mum and extended family like he normally did had been a mistake. He had been near-drunk on the banquet that had been laid out on the long table in the garden, and the abundance of conversation hadn’t hurt either. There was an abundance of interesting people whom he had never met, whom the undergrounds of cities had kept from him while he was all but secreted away - stories that were told and friends made had given him a heady feeling, worse than even the oldest, strongest liquor he had taken.

Regardless of his questionable choice the night before, it was nice not to wake up in an open field (he had gone out one year with Jamal and Ryan, and that had not ended well - in attempts to curb the throbbing in his skull he had gotten into a bottle of a particularly interesting pomegranate red wine, and the next morning his mouth felt less like cotton and more like straw from the pile of it he woke up in). Although, in this case, his current lodgings were one of the many, many guest bedrooms the Morton’s had in their expansive manor. At least the bed was soft. And warm - far too warm.

Deciding that now was probably as good a time as any to wake up and greet whatever was left of his day, Eggsy groaned and stretched, hearing the vertebrae in his spine pop unattractively after a night spent in a singular position. Swinging his arm to the side to work out his shoulder, his hand came into contact with what seemed to be the source of the excess warmth, and he froze.

“Go back to sleep, Gary.” The figure muttered, clearly male, and clearly still very tired. Eggsy had vague memories of going by his birth name the night before, and it seemed only reinforced by the fact that the man next to him had called him by it. There was a reason he didn’t go by that name, aside from the obvious implications of true names - he had felt it too close a connection to his father, yet while surveying the form of the man next to him (about his age, with soft chestnut hair and a stiff jawline, and what appeared to be a very fit frame, if the glimpse at his torso told him anything else) he had remembered to word tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop it. The man must have felt him staring, because he cracked open an eye. “What is it now, heart? I could hear the crinkle in your brow.” Eggsy gaped dumbly. “Nothing happened last night, if that’s what you’re wondering. The Mortons had more people staying the night than they originally planned, and there were a few of us that ended up doubling. Roxy thought we would be a good fit.”

And just like that, the tension in his shoulders that he hadn’t known he was sporting eased, and a rush passed over him that was far too tender for it to be anything other than a caress. Harry -  _ Henry _ , for that was his name, as the memories from the night before began to break through his clouded brain - smiled softly and the rush passed over him again. Eggsy nearly purred.

“I don’t think I’ve found anyone as compatible as you,” Harry said softly, and Eggsy could feel the prodding of his own magic towards the other man. He let his grip on it ease, for the first time in what felt like ages, and it left him in a rush as though he had been winded. He felt it twine with Harry’s, feeling the other out, and going by the look on Harry’s face he too felt the warmth beginning to pool in his chest.

“Seems like Rox is a conniving little minx, she is.” Eggsy said as he and Harry looked at each other softly and smiled. “Guess I owe her good for this one.”

“It seems we both do.” Harry said, even as his stomach gave it a loud grumble. “What time is it?” Eggsy craned his neck to look at the clock on the bedside table.

“Half ten,” he sighed, knowing that if anything was to be done today they would have to leave the bed.

“Brunch?” Eggsy considered the offer, wondering who all was awake and whether or not the bacon was gone from the table downstairs yet.

“Yeah, alright.”


End file.
